


Contact High

by HerBrazenElegance



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Novices, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:30:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerBrazenElegance/pseuds/HerBrazenElegance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik and Altaïr spend the night in Acre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contact High

**Author's Note:**

> I love novice!altmal with an unhealthy passion, so this happened. Enjoy, and don't forget to leave a comment if you liked it. c:

The Assassin’s Bureau of Acre lay quiet under the cold fog, a sort of haven amidst a city slowly being consumed by disease and war and soon, it seemed, the sea itself. Even the sky was stained a bloody red, the light from the setting sun sneaking through the slotted roof and casting foreboding shadows on the walls. But at least if the superstitions were true, it would be an easy trip for any fortunate sailors in the area.

The novices staying in the bureau that night lay together on the pillows, not-so-secretly tangled beneath a thin wool blanket. Altaïr rolled over and wrapped his arms firmly around Malik, pressing their nearly-bare bodies closer together like spoons, only to have the latter groan and try to wriggle away. Altaïr just tightened his grip and smiled to himself.

“Enough, Altair.”

“You are never enough.” He pressed his lips to Malik’s neck and inhaled deeply.

“Why don’t you practice some self-control?” Malik grumbled.

“I don’t think it is possible with you so close to me.”

Malik huffed. “Jabal should not have allowed you anywhere near his hookah.”

Altaïr laughed loudly. They were both high, but that was beside the point.

“Be quiet, idiot.”

“Give it up. Why must you fight me?”

Malik sighed. “I suppose it is a knee-jerk reaction after the amount of fighting I have already done today.”

Altaïr’s smile faded and he loosened his hold ever so slightly. “Was it really that bad?”

He was, of course, referring to the assignment they’d been given earlier that day. It was supposed to be something simple, a delivery in fact, but things had gone sour when they found their recipient bleeding out and themselves in a (poorly) planned trap. Their attackers had been taken out easily, but the commotion it caused had forced the guards on them, or rather Malik after he’d failed to slip away as quickly as his partner. It left him with more bruises and bloodstains than he’d like to tell.

“No,” Malik admitted. “Just a bit more action than I am used to yet.”

“I would have turned back if I’d known.”

“Would you have?” Malik rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter now. I am still alive. Just let me sleep through this soreness.”

“I could make you feel better,” Altaïr tried. His arm not underneath Malik came up and tickled his ribs, rubbed up and down his side slowly, slipped beneath the waistline of his breeches and groped his rear. Malik let him do all of this until he felt heat in his cheeks.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?” Altaïr whispered in return and proceeded to nibble his earlobe.

“You always choose the worst places. The rafiq will catch us.”

“No place is safe for an assassin, Malik. He is sleeping, anyway.”

“Are you sure this is for my benefit and not your own?”

Altaïr’s response was to dig his nails into Malik’s rear, forcing out a short hiss. Altaïr’s smile returned as he licked a line from Malik’s shoulder to his ear. He then dragged his hand up Malik’s flesh from beneath his breeches and around to his front, running his fingertips through the thin spread of hair on his abdomen and drawing meaningless little designs there.

“Don’t tease me.”

“Hush,” Altaïr responded. “I said I would make you feel better.” He nibbled on the crook of Malik’s neck and continued running his hands over the front of his body, his fingertips pressing hard sometimes and once made Malik whine when he rubbed over a badly bruised spot. Altaïr silently apologized and avoided that area completely, reached once more beneath Malik’s waistline and began to work him to full attention. It didn’t take long at all. Boys their age took little effort to turn on, and frankly neither one of them was upset about that.

“Whore,” Altaïr teased.

Malik half-smiled. “You bring out the worst in me. Now get on with it.”

Altaïr sighed and brought his hips further forward to rut against Malik while toying with him. He ground them into the older boy in time with the movement of his hand, meanwhile clear fluid began to spill out onto his fingers as Malik bit down on whatever sounds he wanted to make, letting a few soft moans out by accident as Altaïr’s actions grew more bold and hasty. Malik exhaled heavily and began moving his hips with Altair’s actions, wishing to himself that he could feel Altaïr inside him rather than grinding against him, but this would have to do. Altaïr was never gentle during sex, and he was covered in enough cuts and bruises already.

Altaïr wasn’t always inconsiderate, though, and in a short moment of clear thinking his hand left Malik’s dripping cock to undress them both. Malik helped when he caught on, and as soon as they were naked Altaïr returned to his duty. He groaned when he slipped between Malik’s rear, not pushing in, but rutting hard and making Malik moan as well.

“Fuck,” Malik breathed, which was his drug-and-sex-addled brain’s way of reminding Altaïr that they should be quiet. He clapped a hand over his own mouth and ground himself into Altaïr’s hand faster, that familiar heat building in his belly fast as he came closer to the edge. Altaïr took the hint and bit down into Malik’s neck – not too hard, but it surprised Malik he first felt his teeth sink in – and kept himself quiet.

Malik panted heavily through his fingers, and with his free hand he reached back and pushed Altaïr’s hips forward, urging him on. Altaïr obliged, and after only a few more seconds it broke both of them. Malik involuntarily jerked when he came and panted softly once he’d felt safe enough to remove his hand from his face. Altaïr finished soon after, leaving a mess on his belly and Malik’s lower back. Neither of them spoke for a while until Altaïr kissed his shoulder.

“I may have given you a new mark by mistake.”

Malik could hear the smile in his voice and rolled his eyes. “Good. Then it will match the others.”

“At least this one will not leave you sore,” Altaïr noted. He licked over the red spot on Malik’s neck that would likely be purple as a regular bruise in the morning.

Malik said nothing to that and closed his eyes, feeling exhausted.

“You cannot stay mad at me forever,” Altaïr said. “But I know you will try.” He kissed Malik’s shoulder again and rubbed his hip gently.

“You should not make it so easy to hate you,” Malik grumbled.

“Likewise,” Altaïr chuckled. “My worst enemy.” He wrapped his arms around Malik again, not minding the stickiness between them, and drifted off to sleep.

Malik, however, stayed awake a bit longer. He thought of all the insults he had called Altaïr before, all the ones he would call him the next time he fucked something up, his arrogant attitude and his stupid, attractive face. He hated Altaïr, he truly did, but for all the contempt he felt for him…

Malik shifted in Altaïr’s grip, not waking him because he had a tendency to sleep like a rock, and watched his sleeping face for a moment. He liked him when he slept – he looked quiet and humble for once. It was the face he thought of after their arguments, especially the rare ones he felt guilty after, the one that showed Altaïr had different sides to him than the mask he put on. He could be small and weak and stupid as anyone else.

Malik kissed him on the lips, watched his face again for a reaction, and shifted to the position he was in before when there was none.

He hated Altaïr. He wouldn’t deny that. But what he did deny, at least to anyone who asked, was that he was also probably in love with him.


End file.
